Learning to Walk

“The moon, stars, rocks, trees, plants, water, insects, birds, mammals. Your whole family. Learn about that relationship. How you’re moving through time and space together. That’s why you’re alive.”

-          from Embers: One Ojibway’s Meditations by Richard Wagamese

Learning to Walk is the working title of a collection of ecopoetry I am working on. We need to learn a completely new way of walking, to notice, respect, and be curious about the beings with whom we share this community, the birds, trees, rocks.

I was born in Thunder Bay. I grew up here. But I was never taught about these relations with whom I share this land. I was taught that the natural world was separate from me. If anything, nature is an annoyance: “invasive” weeds or “nuisance” pests ruining my mom’s flower garden or my dad’s vegetable garden; deer eating the decorative cedar trees; bears “stealing” apples from the trees. Nature was also something to be feared. Best not to venture too far from the house, or I could be attacked by a moose in heat or a mother bear if I got too close to her cubs. Anyways, isn’t it better to stay safe and clean indoors instead of getting my nice clothes dirty or tracking mud into the house?

This was the anthropocentric view of the world I – and I’m sure many people – grew up with. Humans are at the centre, the top of the pyramid, and nature exists to be tamed, to be useful for human consumption. This Western, Judeo-Christian perspective is not sustainable as the climate crisis has been clearly demonstrating for decades.

I have lived here most of my life, but I am a stranger to this land and most of my non-human neighbours. I am looking forward to getting to know the birds, trees, rocks, and history of this place. As Richard Wagamese writes, learning about that relationship is the reason we’re alive.